


Working Late

by CarrieMaxwell



Series: Working Late [2]
Category: Let's Play (Webcomic), Webtoon - Fandom, let's play by Mongie
Genre: Blushing, Chinese Food, Daydreaming, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Flustered, Getting close, Temptation, Working Late, falling asleep, late night project, learning to use chopsticks, turned on, working together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23098837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrieMaxwell/pseuds/CarrieMaxwell
Summary: Last minute on a Friday, two sets of documents from the same company need to be reviewed for a business deal and Charles asks Sam to stay late in order to sort through both at once. They both had plans they have to cancel on, and set to work. There's a growing tension building up from one of them, making concentrating on the job all the more difficult.
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Series: Working Late [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661527
Comments: 8
Kudos: 95





	Working Late

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this art, done by Mongie.
> 
> https://www.google.com/search?q=let%27s+play+art+by+mongie&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwjB2fbRm6LtAhVDe6wKHYtoD40Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=let%27s+play+art+by+mongie&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoECCMQJzoCCAA6BggAEAgQHjoFCAAQsQM6BggAEAUQHjoECAAQGDoECAAQHlCrsQFY0d8BYInhAWgAcAB4AIABmgOIAeIqkgEKMS45LjExLjMuMZgBAKABAaoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1nwAEB&sclient=img&ei=o6zAX4H8DcP2sQWL0b3oCA&bih=625&biw=1366#imgrc=RmIoNUExk_C9lM

It was Friday. Raid Night. And Sam was looking forward to it more than usual. Angela had skipped out on it last week in her silent treatment she had been dishing out to both her and Link. Not that Sam could blame her, she did kinda sorta betray her trust and reveal the secret she had been keeping, but she had a good reason, poor Link needed to know what had set her off and why she had bitten him when he restrained her from beating Marshall.

Vikki tried her role at Peacekeeper but her usual tactics couldn’t work this time. Sam had been shut out. She just had to let it ride its course. Hopefully tonight, Angela would be with the team and bashing in some goblin skulls. The thought of killing goblins had never made her so happy before, but the thought was soon dashed when Charles entered her office, the door already opened and plopped two separate business proposals on her desk.

She jumped at the heavy thud, looked up and found furrowed blond brows, and two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.  
“Bloody nitwit millennials and their lack of personnel control.” He scowled. “These idiots from Skyz The Limit Co. sent two idiots to do one idiots job.”  
She took a look at the name on top of each proposal. Both employees shared the same last name. There was a Johan Anderson, and an Ash Anderson. Apparently, both men had thought it their job to write up the business contract…

“Alright, so we have two business proposals.” She stated clearly. “Let’s just pick whichever arrived first.”

“That’s the problem Miss Young, they both arrived at the same time. Typed up and delivered today. No way to say which entered the mailbox first.” He hissed. Apparently he had already thought of that venue.

“How did something like this slip past our attention until now?” she asked, looking at the clock. There was an hour left of the work day. Maybe if there was only one contract to overlook, she could get out in time, but two…She knew what was coming.

“Human error I suppose.” He sighed. “But I’ll need to you to stay late to help me review both of these.”

DAMN. IT. 

“Can’t we just flip a coin and pick one?” she joked, half a smile creeping up her cheek. She pushed her glasses back up her nose a touch.

“As much as I would like to follow that notion, as the General Manager it would be quite lax of me to just pick a business contract out of the blue and agree to it.” He replied, feeling the slightest twinge of guilt. “Each segment of these must be carefully analyzed to see if they are agreeable terms. After all, this is a business. A deal must either meet equal satisfactory terms or tip in someone’s favor, and I see to it that we get the better end.” He saw her shoulders slump. Was I in Lecture Mode again? “Miss Young? You seemed distressed at the thought of a few extra hours.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice for fear it’d crack under the threat of tears. Tonight was so important, not for the game, but for repairing her friendship. Angela could hold a grudge until the end of days. With trembling hands she reached for both set of documents but was stopped by a large pale hand covering hers.

She looked up, finding her handsome boss with a concerning face peering down at her. Oh crap, he’s going to ask. He’s going to want to know…

“Miss Young, I wouldn’t trust this task to just anybody. Two intelligent heads are better than one in this case. Sometimes, staying late is just part of the job. I will give you a ride home, I’ll even buy dinner-”

“It’s not that.” She interjected.

He leaned in. With one hand on hers and the other braced on top of her desk, she had his focus. He wanted answers.

“Tonight is important.” She began. She told him tonight was Raid Night but even more so, that she and her best friend were at odds because she told a secret and now Angela was mad. Tonight was supposed be an olive branch. Now she was worried that Angela would take it the wrong way.

“Of all things, I didn’t expect that.” He said in response. “But if she’s your best friend, surely she’ll understand. I’ll let you call her once it’s time to punch out.”  
“She’s been ignoring my calls.” Samara stated flatly.

He inhaled a deep nostril breath. As much as he would like to let her go, he really did need the extra help. There didn’t seem to be any kind of compromise they could reach. He patted her hand in that familiar reassuring gesture.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Suck it up and be a big girl.” She mumbled and stood up, making Charles retreat from his leisurely stance. He rounded the desk and blocked her before she could even get past the piece of furniture. The sudden blockage in front of her made her gasp just a tiny bit.

“Miss Young, it is not a matter of me not caring about your plight. I know for a fact how strong the bond of your loyalty lies when it comes to your friends, after all,” he leaned in a bit, “that was how this whole thing got started, wasn’t it?” he smiled in that mischievous way that made Sam believe he was part feline. “But I need you.” Her heart tugged at that word: need. How could she refuse after that? She nodded and bit her lip as she was known to do when stressed. His hand tenderly touched her chin and brought her head up. “Do stop chewing your lip before I bite it off myself.”

Her eyes widened at that threat, but also the way his accent had suddenly taken a husky tone and his eyes narrowed. He smiled and then turned on a dime, out of her office, leaving her lingering for that brief touch, and the thrill of what his words could mean.

Charles escaped to the sanctuary of his office, door closed behind him, before he let out a breath and ran some fingers through his hair. Good God, what am I even doing? Leading her on like that when I know we’re going to be spending a few hours working alone together. Dinner was one thing, but this is still the workplace. Get it together man!

Five o’clock came. Employees clocked out. Samara remained in her office, saying weekend farewells to everyone who passed by. As soon as she was certain the last employee left, she pulled out her cellphone. Two important phone calls to make. The first was easy; Ms. Whipple. The landlady was always eager to puppysit Bowser and would keep him until her next call. Now that her furbaby was taken care of, the second call to make. But she couldn’t call Angie. Not like this. Best to call Abe and as their Guild Leader, he would explain to the group thoroughly. 

“Abe, it’s Sam. She started, a little shakily.” (Duh, of course he knows it’s me, he has my number programmed…) “Look, I’m not gonna make it tonight, something came up with work and I’m here for the long haul….totally held hostage with some double booking that my boss and I need to hash over to make sense of it all….I tried getting out of it, believe me….please let everyone know. Ok, thanks. Bye.”

She took in a breath and sighed. She could only imagine the reactions her guild mates would make to the news. She turned down her phone volume to vibrate and reached for the documents when…

“Held hostage eh?” 

She yipped in surprise, turned around and found her silent-stalking, probably-secretly-a-vampire, too-hot-for-his-own-good boss in her doorway. The man would make an excellent ninja.

“Might as well said you were kidnapped by a Dragon and forced to clean the tower.” He chuckled. “Am I really that wicked?”

“It’s rude to eavesdrop.” Was all she could manage to say as she held the papers to her chest. “Nearly gave me an asthma attack.”

“My apologies Miss Young, but at least you’re with someone certified in CPR.” He made the sweeping gesture for her to exit and lead the way. She was immediately reminded of when Marshall collapsed and Charles began the fervent procedure of chest compressions. Would he do the same to her if she were to pass out? Didn’t he say he thought he broke some of Marshall’s ribs doing that?

“After you Miss Youn-“

“No one else is here Charles, you can call me by name again.” She stated in a confident tone. “Or would you like me to start referring to you as Mr. Jones?” There was a hint of a smirk and a gleam in her eye as she passed him in the doorway. He was sorely tempted to smack the perky little butt of hers but instead stuck his hand in his pocket, feeling the familiar cool sensation of a gold band on a necklace chain.

Samara heard a metallic jingle. What was that? Coins? Keys? She noticed it always happened when Charles put his left hand in his pocket but it was never so noticeable until now, as the office was empty as a tomb and half lit. He opened his office door for her and allowed her to enter first.

“So we’re doing it in here.” She said absentmindedly, not noticing the struggle Charles endured to not react to that open statement. Keep your mind out of the damn gutter! There was no telling how many times he had a fleeting fancy regarding the two of them, in various scenarios, in this very room. He needed to step away, take a cold shower, have stiff drink-something-to get his head on straight.

“So, what do you normally eat on Raid Nights?” he asked, finally finding a safe subject.

She set the papers down, her pencil skirt tightly hugging her ass. When she straightened her back, he saw how much her breasts pushed against the buttons of her blouse, almost ready to burst-and so was he. She reached up and skillfully undid her bun, swishing her hair loose for comfort. 

Woman. Stop. He prayed.

“Usually I just nuke a tv dinner, maybe have a pizza.” She turned and looked at him, her voice failing as she saw his arms crossed, brows furrowed, clearly disapproving of her choice of junk food. “Or maybe…I get take out.”

“That’s more like it.” He perked up. “Chinese?” She nodded. “Good, make yourself comfortable, and yes, you can take your shoes off.” He chuckled as she brightened at that thought. “Any allergies or preferences?”

She sat on the beige sofa and shook her head to the first part of his question as she slipped off the first shoe. The moan of delight that escaped her lips had him clenched. 

“Anything is good.” She said in response to the second part and undid the second shoe, muttering “Oh God.” In absolute pleasure.

Charles was thinking the same thing. Oh. God.

“G-great.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll get a little bit of everything. If you’ll excuse me, I have a private call to make as well.” He wavered, loosening his necktie and he disappeared down the hall.

He couldn’t have walked faster if his life depended on it. If Satan himself was charging down the hall throwing fireballs he still couldn’t have make tracks any quicker. She was undoing him with every single god damn move of her little lithe body and adorable face and making him feel like an inexperienced schoolboy all over again. He made it to the men’s room and splashed cold water on his face and the nape of his neck. “Lord give me strength.” He prayed as he regained composure. There was work to do, real god damn bloody irritating work that needed his expert eye.

But, there was a phone call to make.

Her number was saved, but all communications between then looked strictly professional despite their intimate activities. 

“Ms. Rosewood, I’m afraid I’m to have to cancel our plans for the evening.” He began formally when she answered.

“WHAT?”

“Now you know I would not call unless I was absolutely certain I couldn’t make it. I have a major blunder to correct that will take some time-“

“Oh yeah like when playing that damn game was more important-“

“I assure you, I’m not playing a game. I’m up to my neck in documents and need to place my dinner order so we will have to do this another time.”

“You’re leaving me high and dry like this?” she scoffed. “I thought you were a gentleman.”

He rankled at the sneer she put on the word and tried to remain calm. “Surely you must have another companion you can call, I can’t be the only one.”

“Are you calling me a whore now?”

Heaven forbid the woman not blow something out of proportion. The only thing natural about her was her red hair and the temper famously associated with it.

“I said nothing of the sort, you’re a resourceful woman. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble replacing me.” He snipped and pressed the End Call button. He rubbed his temple. Why of all days did everything seem to come at him at once? No wonder he’d had sex on the brain, and as frustrating as it was to have to cancel, there was no alternative. But it still didn’t help that his little man was still expecting to receive attention and his biggest temptation was alone in his office.

Knock knock knock

“Charles?”

He jumped. He was so unnerved that the mere thought of her was conjuring her to his location. “Yes Miss Young?”

“Are you alright in there? Need anything?”

He looked at his phone, he’d been in the men’s room quite a bit. No wonder she’d grown concerned. “Not all at. Just finishing up.” He replied and opened the door.

“When you said you have a private call to make, I actually thought you were going to call someone.” She chuckled. “You could’ve told me you need to go.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her innocence and gestured back to the office. “Sorry, old Welsh term.” He so casually lied. Once they got back and in their own seats he called Pei Wei and set their order with instructions for the delivery man to call once at the building door upon arrival.  
“Alright, where have you gotten so far?”

“This whole deal looks like it was written by a two-head ogre who couldn’t agree if the sky was blue.” Samara sighed. “Not only did each Anderson write their proposal non sequentially but they both have different numbers. It’s like…I mean just how did the company not have a set goal in mind?”

“Believe me, they will be receiving quite the reprimand on their unprofessional display if they’re lucky we even take them on as a client.”

“Why don’t we just refuse and have them rewrite it?”

Charles tented his fingers and rested his elbows on the desk. “Because Young Technologies prides itself on its integrity. Rather than most people who would take a two minute glance at this and toss it to the waste bin, we are being thorough. No stone unturned. That way, we can show them just how incompetent they’ve revealed themselves to be and let this be a lesson they can either learn and grow from, or continue and soon bankrupt themselves.”

Sam blinked. “Wow. You’re ruthless.”

His feline smile curved above the bow of his hands. “Why thank you.” His phone suddenly buzzed. “That’ll be the food.” He stood up and made his way to the door as he heard Samara mumble I guess Jay was right… leaving him to ponder just what other things her brother has filled her head with about him. He came back a moment later with white plastic bags filled with steaming containers and the undeniable scent of deliciousness. Sam felt her stomach growl. They’d been grinding over this for a solid two hours now.  
Charles squatted on the floor, his shirt straining against the tension as he pulled each container out one at a time, placing them in a bundle on the carpet. He pulled out chopsticks and plasticware, napkins, and sauce packets. When he looked up, he caught a most bewildered look on his assistant’s face.

“What?” he chuckled. “You’ve never had a floor picnic?”

“I-I just figured we’d take it to the Break Room, where there’s a table and chairs…”

Honestly, the thought had never even occurred to him. Of course it would make sense to eat the food there, and yet, just like when he gave her his shirt, she had pointed out the more simpler solution of him just handing her his spare. 

Samara 2 vs Charles 0

“You’re absolutely right. Would you like to go there?”

“No!” She nearly yelled. “No I mean you already have it all set out…it’s just that…I uh…I can’t sit on the floor in this.” She pointed to her pencil skirt.

How unthoughtful of me. He self-admonished. He stood up and offered his hand to her, to which she took timidly. Once he had her pulled to her feet, he held her a moment so she could feel the blood flow return to her legs, that had been tucked under her for a while now. She had begun to apologize for that when he shhhed her and led her to the floor. He had grabbed a pillow off the sofa and plopped it down and helped center her so she could rest upon it. Once settled, he handed her a pair of chopsticks and picked up a plastic fork for his low mein.

“You don’t use chopsticks?” she asked.

“You may find it hard to believe, but I don’t excel at everything. I’ve tried but have never quite got the hang of it.”

She gestured with her hand. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

He obediently scooted over. She took his right hand and placed the chopsticks within, then nimbly maneuvered his fingers in place, then like a puppet master, forced his pointer finger to move, then his thumb, then both together.

“Okay try it.”

He flexed just as she had done, then angled the container box so he didn’t have to move his hand and stuck the sticks in. Following the same robotic movement, he actually caught some low mein. He smiled like a proud child and brought the noodles to his mouth. Seeing her smile was far more the greater reward. They enjoyed their “floor picnic” with relish, the food was good and hot-a note that Charles would leave for review later-and found that it eased not only the stress of the workload, but the tension both of them had developed over the grueling hours.

Sam had often thought of what it would be like to work late with him, if his behavior would remain the same as it was during work hours or if he would loosen his tie and become casual. The truth was, a little bit of both actually. She just wished she was in something a little more comfortable than the waist hugging pencil skirt. Ugh what a ridiculous piece of fashion. Maybe I should get a pantsuit…she pondered. She noticed Charles’ gaze was fixed on her.

“Do I have rice on my face?” she asked, immediately bringing a hand up to brush whatever may be there.

“No Bunty, no rice. I was simply enjoying the view.”

She flushed. The View? Her eating Chinese food wasn’t exactly show worthy. 

“I was admiring your skill with the chopstick and taking mental notes.” He clarified when he saw she was becoming self-conscious. It was only a half-truth. He indeed was pleased with this almost intimate setting. If only…No. Stop it. Get back to work. Charles began gathering up empty containers and wrappers, Sam immediately joined in to help, their hands reaching for and meeting at the same piece of trash. She was about to pull away when he clasped hold of her hand, his thumb rubbing little circles across the soft top.

“Thank you for your lesson in Chinese etiquette.” He purred, bringing her hand to his lips. A gentle kiss across her knuckles sent shivers from her neck down, a flush across her cheeks, and a jump in her heartbeat. “I’ll get the rest of this, you go ahead and get yourself seated.” He let her hand go, slowly, his eyes still locked onto hers.

Damn it Charles, those beautiful eyes of yours. They pierce right through me and keep me frozen in place. You could tell me to jump off a bridge right now and I’d be so tempted to obey…

When she had her hand back, she shook it as if to shake off the feeling of his lips and quickly turned to hide her embarrassment. But trying to get off the squished pillow on the floor was even harder than trying to sit herself into his car and she swear she heard muffled laughter until she slumped her shoulders and said “Alright, come over here and help me.”

He came up right behind her and a hand appeared on either side of her, held out for her to clasp, which she took and used to brace herself up. This time he didn’t linger, didn’t touch any other part of her. He had turned back to the task at hand and gathered up the garbage and sacked it in the bags it was delivered in. He carried it out of the room, probably to the Break Room, and returned with a water bottle from the fridge there. He found Samara sitting back on the couch, hair tightly wound back from her face as she squinted at the paper before her. He held it out to her, which she took without breaking her glance and continued reading. He strode over to his desk and picked up his copy and then slid into the corner seat right next to her, making her stiffen with surprise.

“Sorry, I don’t think I take any more of that chair tonight.”

She shifted and continued her work. He smiled and then picked where he left off and did the same. Another forty five minutes of this, them going back and forth, finding middle ground between the two opposing proposals. 

“Well Bunty, I think we’ve finally cracked this case.” He said with satisfaction, and then a yawn escaped his lips. 

He was in no condition to drive, at least not to the distance of his apartment. When Sam didn’t respond he looked over and found her head resting against his shoulder, sound asleep. A smile spread across his face, taking in this rare moment. He slowly and gently removed the glasses off her face, her head tilting towards his chest. He shifted ever so slightly, finding a comfortable position and giving her more of his body to lean on. He crossed his left leg over his right, her elbow resting in his lap. It wasn’t the first time he had slept on the sofa in his office, but it was the first time with a companion. Fully clothed. With nothing so much as a shared kiss. And yet this night had felt far more intimate than any of the nights he had shared with a lover.

Something within him had changed, somehow. He wanted more of this, whatever this was.


End file.
